


Kind of Fucking Busy

by apliddell



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Masturbation, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-25 23:30:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7551352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apliddell/pseuds/apliddell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock forgets to knock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kind of Fucking Busy

“John?” check my watch. We should have left five minutes ago; we’re probably going to have to get the next train. “John!” I call up the stairs. “Hurry up!” No answer. Huff and mount the stairs. He’s so vain about his toilette, though he pretends I’m the one with the excessive beauty rituals. Probably trying on his ninth cardigan of the morning. 

The door’s shut, but I tap on it and throw it open without waiting for an answer, “John, aren’t you-” 

John starts up from his bed with a grunt of surprise as I enter the room, “Don’t you ever fucking knock?!”

He most certainly is not nearly ready to go. Bottomless and clutching a hand towel in front of his groin with both hands. I can see the shape of John’s erection through the towel. It bobs in front of him as he shifts about, glaring at me. His left hand is slick and shining with lubricant (bottle of it lying on the bed, brand obscured by the sheets). His cheeks are pink. 

I swallow. My mouth is watering. “I. John, I. I’m.” 

“Get out!” He casts about for something to throw and lands on the bottle of lube. It hits the door and bounces off. The lid pops off with a squelch and lube begins to ooze onto the rug. We both burst into giggles, John rather more reluctantly than me.

“That could have hit me, you know. I thought you had better aim than that.”

“Sherlock!” Can’t stop staring at that towel. I’d have thought his erection would have diminished a bit under the scrutiny, but it doesn’t seem to have, “I’m kind of fucking busy here, so get out unless you-” he cuts himself off, “Get out!”

“Fucking busy. Yes.” I pull the door shut with a bang and call through it, “Just hurry up. We’ve already missed our train.” 

“Fuck off!” John shouts through the door, and I pelt down the stairs toward my room, wondering if I’m going to have the time to indulge myself.


End file.
